


madness with method in it

by rayvanfox



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:59:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayvanfox/pseuds/rayvanfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is a version of shakespeare's hamlet cut down to only 4 characters and edited such that hamlet is definitely going mad. all words are shakespeare's own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	madness with method in it

Hamlet

Act I, Scene 1  
Elsinore. A room of state in the Castle.

Flourish. [Enter Claudius, King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Hamlet, Polonius]

Claudius. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death  
The memory be green, and that it us befitted  
To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom  
To be contracted in one brow of woe,  
Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature  
That we with wisest sorrow think on him  
Together with remembrance of ourselves.  
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,  
Th' imperial jointress to this warlike state,  
Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,  
With an auspicious, and a dropping eye,  
With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,  
In equal scale weighing delight and dole,  
Taken to wife; nor have we herein barr'd  
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone  
With this affair along. For all, our thanks.  
But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son-

Hamlet. [aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind!

Claudius. How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

Hamlet. Not so, my lord. I am too much i' th' sun.

Gertrude. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,  
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.  
Do not for ever with thy vailed lids  
Seek for thy noble father in the dust.  
Thou know'st 'tis common. All that lives must die,  
Passing through nature to eternity.

Hamlet. Ay, madam, it is common.

Gertrude. If it be,  
Why seems it so particular with thee?

Hamlet. Seems, madam, Nay, it is. I know not 'seems.'  
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,  
Nor customary suits of solemn black,  
Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,  
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,  
Nor the dejected havior of the visage,  
Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,  
'That can denote me truly. These indeed seem,  
For they are actions that a man might play;  
But I have that within which passeth show-  
These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

Claudius. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,  
To give these mourning duties to your father;  
But you must know, your father lost a father;  
That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound  
In filial obligation for some term  
To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever  
In obstinate condolement is a course  
Of impious stubbornness. 'Tis unmanly grief;  
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,  
A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,  
An understanding simple and unschool'd;  
For what we know must be, and is as common  
As any the most vulgar thing to sense,  
Why should we in our peevish opposition  
Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,  
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,  
To reason most absurd, whose common theme  
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,  
From the first corse till he that died to-day,  
'This must be so.' We pray you throw to earth  
This unprevailing woe, and think of us   
As of a father; for let the world take note  
You are the most immediate to our throne,  
And with no less nobility of love  
Than that which dearest father bears his son  
Do I impart toward you. For your intent  
In going back to school in Wittenberg,  
It is most retrograde to our desire;  
And we beseech you, bend you to remain  
Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,  
Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son. 

Gertrude. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet.  
I pray thee stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.

Hamlet. I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

Claudius. Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply.  
Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come.   
This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet  
Sits smiling to my heart; Come away.

[Flourish. Exeunt all but Hamlet.]

Hamlet. O that this too too solid flesh would melt,  
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!  
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd   
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!  
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable  
Seem to me all the uses of this world!  
Fie on't! ah, fie! 'Tis an unweeded garden  
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature   
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!  
But two months dead! Nay, not so much, not two.  
So excellent a king, that was to this  
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother  
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven   
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!  
Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him  
As if increase of appetite had grown  
By what it fed on; and yet, within a month-  
Let me not think on't! Frailty, thy name is woman!-   
A little month, or ere those shoes were old  
With which she followed my poor father's body  
Like Niobe, all tears- why she, even she  
(O God! a beast that wants discourse of reason  
Would have mourn'd longer) married with my uncle;   
My father's brother, but no more like my father  
Than I to Hercules. Within a month,  
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears  
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,  
She married. O, most wicked speed, to post   
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!  
It is not, nor it cannot come to good.  
But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue!  
All is not well.  
I doubt some foul play.   
Foul deeds will rise,  
Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

[Exit.]

 

Act I, Scene 2 

[hamlet wakes from sleep ] 

Hamlet. Angels and ministers of grace defend us!  
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd,  
Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,   
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,  
Thou com'st in such a questionable shape  
That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee Hamlet,  
King, father, royal Dane. O, answer me?  
Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell   
Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death,  
Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre  
Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd,  
Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws  
To cast thee up again. What may this mean   
That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel,  
Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon,  
Making night hideous, and we fools of nature  
So horridly to shake our disposition  
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?   
Say, why is this? wherefore? What should we do?

Hamlet. It will not speak. Then will I follow it. 

Hamlet. Why, what should be the fear?  
I do not set my life at a pin's fee;  
And for my soul, what can it do to that,  
Being a thing immortal as itself?   
It waves me forth again. I'll follow it.

Hamlet. It waves me still.  
Go on. I'll follow thee.

Hamlet. My fate cries out  
And makes each petty artire in this body  
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.  
Go on. I'll follow thee.

Hamlet. Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak! I'll go no further.

Hamlet. Alas, poor ghost!

Hamlet. Speak. I am bound to hear.

Hamlet. What?

Hamlet. O God! 

Hamlet. Murther?

Hamlet. Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift   
As meditation or the thoughts of love,  
May sweep to my revenge.

Hamlet. O my prophetic soul!  
My uncle?

Hamlet. O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!

Hamlet. O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else?   
And shall I couple hell? Hold, hold, my heart!  
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,  
But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee?  
Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat  
In this distracted globe. Remember thee?   
Yea, from the table of my memory  
I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,  
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past  
That youth and observation copied there,  
And thy commandment all alone shall live   
Within the book and volume of my brain,  
Unmix'd with baser matter. Yes, by heaven!  
O most pernicious woman!  
O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!  
My tables! Meet it is I set it down   
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;  
At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark. [Writes.]  
So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word:  
It is 'Adieu, adieu! Remember me.'  
I have sworn't. 

Hamlet. There's neer a villain dwelling in all Denmark  
But he's an arrant knave.  
[picks up mirror, talks to self] 

Hamlet. How say you then? Would heart of man once think it?   
But you'll be secret? 

Hamlet. Upon my sword.  
Consent to swear.  
Never to speak of this that you have heard:  
So grace and mercy at your most need help you,  
Swear. [he swears]

Hamlet. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!  
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.  
The time is out of joint. O cursed spite  
That ever I was born to set it right!  
Nay, come, let's go together. 

[Exit with mirror]

Act II, Scene 1 

gertrude. O my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!

Polonius. With what, i' th' name of God?

gertrude. My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,  
Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd,   
No hat upon his head, his stockings foul'd,  
Ungart'red, and down-gyved to his ankle;  
Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other,  
And with a look so piteous in purport  
As if he had been loosed out of hell   
To speak of horrors- he comes before me.

Polonius. What said he? 

Gertrude. He took me by the wrist and held me hard;  
Then goes he to the length of all his arm,  
And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,  
He falls to such perusal of my face  
As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so.  
At last, a little shaking of mine arm,  
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,  
He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound  
As it did seem to shatter all his bulk  
And end his being. That done, he lets me go,   
And with his head over his shoulder turn'd  
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes,  
For out o' doors he went without their help  
And to the last bended their light on me.

Polonius. Come, go with me. I will go seek the King.   
I am sorry.  
What, have you given him any hard words of late?

[gertrude shakes head no]

Polonius. I am sorry that with better heed and judgment  
I had not quoted him. I fear'd he did but trifle  
By heaven, it is as proper to our age  
To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions   
As it is common for the younger sort  
To lack discretion. Come, go we to the King.  
This must be known; which, being kept close, might move  
More grief to hide than hate to utter love.  
Come. 

[Exeunt. ]

 

Act II, Scene 2

Flourish. [Enter King and Queen, polonius]

polonius. Something have you heard  
Of Hamlet's transformation. So I call it,  
Sith nor th' exterior nor the inward man  
Resembles that it was. What it should be,   
More than his father's death, that thus hath put him  
So much from th' understanding of himself,  
I cannot dream of. I entreat you both  
That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court  
Some little time; so by your companies  
To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather  
So much as from occasion you may glean,  
Whether aught to us unknown afflicts him thus   
That, open'd, lies within our remedy.

Gertrude. [to polonius]   
And I beseech you instantly to visit   
My too much changed son.

Claudius. How may we try it further?

Polonius. You know sometimes he walks for hours together  
Here in the lobby.

Gertrude. So he does indeed.

Polonius. If circumstances lead me, I will find  
Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed  
Within the centre.

Claudius. We will try it.  
Heavens make our presence and our practices  
Pleasant and helpful to him!

Gertrude. Ay, amen! 

[Enter Hamlet, reading on a book.]

Gertrude. But look where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.

Polonius. Away, I do beseech you, both away  
I'll board him presently. O, give me leave.

[King and Queen, withdraw]

Polonius. How does my good Lord Hamlet?  
Hamlet. Well, God-a-mercy.

Polonius. Do you know me, my lord?

Hamlet. Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.

Polonius. Not I, my lord. 

Hamlet. Then I would you were so honest a man.

Polonius. Honest, my lord?

Hamlet. Ay, sir. To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man  
pick'd out of ten thousand.

Polonius. That's very true, my lord.

Hamlet. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god  
kissing carrion- Friend, look to't. 

Polonius. [aside] How say you by that?   
he knew me not at first. He said I was a fishmonger. He is far  
gone, far gone! I'll speak to him again.- What do you  
read, my lord? 

Hamlet. Words, words, words.

Polonius. What is the matter, my lord?

Hamlet. Between who?

Polonius. I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.

Hamlet. Slanders, sir; for the satirical rogue says here that old men   
have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes  
purging thick amber and plum-tree gum; and that they have a  
plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams. All which,  
sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it  
not honesty to have it thus set down; for you yourself, sir,   
should be old as I am if, like a crab, you could go backward.

Polonius. [aside] Though this be madness, yet there is a method in't.-  
Will You walk out of the air, my lord?

Hamlet. Into my grave?

Polonius. Indeed, that is out o' th' air. [Aside] How pregnant sometimes   
his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which  
reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. My honourable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you.

Hamlet. You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more  
willingly part withal- except my life, except my life, except my  
life,

Polonius. Fare you well, my lord. 

Hamlet. These tedious old fools!

[reenter claudius and gertrude]

Hamlet. My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah,  
Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both?

claudius [deciding to play along] Happy in that we are not over-happy. 

Hamlet. On Fortune's cap you are not the very button.  
Nor the soles of her shoe?

gertrude. Neither, my lord.

Hamlet. Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her  
favours? In the secret parts of Fortune? O! most true! she is a  
strumpet. What news ?  
What have you, my good friends,  
deserved at the hands of Fortune that she sends you to prison  
hither?

claudius. Prison, my lord?

Hamlet. Denmark's a prison. 

gertrude. Then is the world one.

Hamlet. A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, and

dungeons, Denmark being one o' th' worst.

gertrude. We think not so, my lord.

Hamlet. Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good   
or bad but thinking makes it so. To me it is a prison.

gertrude. Why, then your ambition makes it one. 'Tis too narrow for your  
mind.

Hamlet. O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a  
king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams. 

claudius. Which dreams indeed are ambition; for the very substance of  
the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.

Hamlet. A dream itself is but a shadow.

claudius. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that  
it is but a shadow's shadow. 

Hamlet. Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and outstretch'd  
heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we to th' court? for, by my  
fay, I cannot reason.

gertrude & claudius. We'll wait upon you.

Hamlet. No such matter! I will not sort you with the rest of my   
servants; for, to speak to you like an honest man, I am most  
dreadfully attended. But in the beaten way of friendship, what  
make you at Elsinore?

claudius. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion.

Hamlet. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you;   
and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny. Were  
you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free  
visitation? Come, deal justly with me. Come, come! Nay, speak.

gertrude. What should we say, my lord?

Hamlet. Why, anything- but to th' purpose. You were sent for; and   
there is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties  
have not craft enough to colour. I know the good King and Queen  
have sent for you.

claudius. To what end, my lord?

Hamlet. That you must teach me. But let me conjure you by the rights   
of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the  
obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by what more dear a  
better proposer could charge you withal, be even and direct with  
me, whether you were sent for or no.

gertrude. [aside] What say you? 

Hamlet. [aside] Nay then, I have an eye of you.- If you love me, hold  
not off.

gertrude. My lord, we were sent for.

Hamlet. I will tell you why. So shall my anticipation prevent your  
discovery, and your secrecy to the King and Queen moult no   
feather. I have of late- but wherefore I know not- lost all my  
mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so  
heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth,  
seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the  
air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical  
roof fretted with golden fire- why, it appeareth no other thing  
to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a  
piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in  
faculties! in form and moving how express and admirable! in  
action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the   
beauty of the world, the paragon of animals! And yet to me what  
is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me- no, nor woman  
neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.

claudius. My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.

Hamlet. It is not very strange; for my uncle is King of Denmark, and  
those that would make mows at him while my father lived give  
twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats apiece for his picture in  
little. 'Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if  
philosophy could find it out.   
Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, come! Th'  
appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony.   
You are welcome. But my uncle-father  
and aunt-mother are deceiv'd.

gertrude. In what, my dear lord?

Hamlet. I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly I  
know a hawk from a handsaw.

[Enter Polonius.]

Polonius. Well be with you, gentlemen!

Hamlet. Hark you, Guildenstern- and you too- at each ear a hearer!  
That great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling   
clouts.

Hamlet. I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players.   
The actors are come hither, my lord. [hamlet acts as if he’s throwing his voice to polonius]

hamlet. [does impression of polonius] The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy,  
history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral,  
tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral; scene  
individable, or poem unlimited. Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor   
Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the liberty, these are  
the only men.

Polonius. What follows then, my lord?

Hamlet. [acting as if a group of people has walked in]  
You are welcome, masters; welcome, all.- I am glad to see thee  
well.- Welcome, good friends.- O, my old friend? Why, thy face is  
valanc'd since I saw thee last. Com'st' thou to' beard me in  
Denmark?- What, my young lady and mistress? By'r Lady, your  
ladyship is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last by the   
altitude of a chopine. Pray God your voice, like a piece of  
uncurrent gold, be not crack'd within the ring.- Masters, you are  
all welcome. We'll e'en to't like French falconers, fly at  
anything we see. We'll have a speech straight. Come, give us a  
taste of your quality. Come, a passionate speech.   
I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was never acted;  
or if it was, not above once; for the play, I remember, pleas'd  
not the million, 'twas caviary to the general; but it was  
an excellent play, well digested in the scenes,  
set down with as much modesty as cunning. One speech in't  
I chiefly lov'd. 'Twas AEneas' tale to Dido, and thereabout of it  
especially where he speaks of Priam's slaughter. If it live in  
your memory, begin at this line- let me see, let me see:  
'The rugged Pyrrhus, like th' Hyrcanian beast-'   
'Tis not so; it begins with Pyrrhus:  
'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms,  
Black as his purpose, did the night resemble  
When he lay couched in the ominous horse,  
And thus o'ersized with coagulate gore,  
With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus  
Old grandsire Priam seeks.'

Polonius. Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and good discretion.

Hamlet. 'Anon he finds him,  
Striking too short at Greeks.  
So, proceed you. [motions for invisible player to continue]

[hamlet sits and listens to nothing]

Polonius. This is too long.

Hamlet. It shall to the barber's, with your beard.- Prithee say on.  
He's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps. Say on; come to  
Hecuba. 

claudius [taking over the speech and gesturing to gertrude, who is crying]  
'But who, O who, had seen the mobled queen-'

Hamlet. 'The mobled queen'?

Polonius. That's good! 'Mobled queen' is good.

claudius. 'Run barefoot up and down, threat'ning the flames  
With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head   
Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe,  
About her lank and all o'erteemed loins,  
A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up-  
Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd  
'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have pronounc'd.   
But if the gods themselves did see her then,  
When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport  
In Mincing with his sword her husband's limbs,  
The instant burst of clamour that she made  
(Unless things mortal move them not at all)   
Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven  
And passion in the gods.'

Polonius. Look, whe'r he has not turn'd his colour, and has tears in's  
eyes. Prithee no more!

Hamlet. 'Tis well. I'll have thee speak out the rest of this soon.-  
Good my lord, will you see the players well bestow'd? Do you  
hear? Let them be well us'd; for they are the abstract and brief  
chronicles of the time. After your death you were better have a  
bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.

Polonius. My lord, I will use them according to their desert. 

Hamlet. God's bodykins, man, much better! Use every man after his  
desert, and who should scape whipping? Use them after your own  
honour and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in  
your bounty. Take them in.

Hamlet. [speaking both to invisible players and C&G]   
Follow him, friends. We'll hear a play to-morrow.

[all but hamlet exit]

Now I am alone.  
O what a rogue and peasant slave am I!  
Is it not monstrous that this player here,  
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,   
Could force his soul so to his own conceit  
That, from her working, all his visage wann'd,  
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,  
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting  
With forms to his conceit? And all for nothing!   
For Hecuba!  
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,  
That he should weep for her? What would he do,  
Had he the motive and the cue for passion  
That I have? He would drown the stage with tears   
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech;  
Make mad the guilty and appal the free,  
Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed  
The very faculties of eyes and ears.  
Yet I,   
A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak  
Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,  
And can say nothing! No, not for a king,  
Upon whose property and most dear life  
A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?   
Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across?  
Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face?  
Tweaks me by th' nose? gives me the lie i' th' throat  
As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this, ha?  
'Swounds, I should take it! for it cannot be   
But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall  
To make oppression bitter, or ere this  
I should have fatted all the region kites  
With this slave's offal. Bloody bawdy villain!  
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain!   
O, vengeance!  
Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,  
That I, the son of a dear father murther'd,  
Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,  
Must (like a whore) unpack my heart with words   
And fall a-cursing like a very drab,  
A scullion!  
Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! Hum, I have heard  
That guilty creatures, sitting at a play,  
Have by the very cunning of the scene   
Been struck so to the soul that presently  
They have proclaim'd their malefactions;  
For murther, though it have no tongue, will speak  
With most miraculous organ, I'll have these Players  
Play something like the murther of my father   
Before mine uncle. I'll observe his looks;  
I'll tent him to the quick. If he but blench,  
I know my course. The spirit that I have seen  
May be a devil; and the devil hath power  
T' assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps   
Out of my weakness and my melancholy,  
As he is very potent with such spirits,  
Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds  
More relative than this. The play's the thing  
Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King. [Exit]

Act III, Scene 1

Claudius. And can we by no drift of circumstance  
Get from him why he puts on this confusion,  
Grating so harshly all his days of quiet   
With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?

gertrude. He does confess he feels himself distracted,  
But from what cause he will by no means speak.

polonius. Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,  
But with a crafty madness keeps aloof   
When we would bring him on to some confession  
Of his true state. 

Polonius. I hear him coming. Let's withdraw, my lord.

[Exeunt King and Polonius]. [gertrude makes to leave but doesn’t, observes]

[Enter Hamlet.]

Hamlet. To be, or not to be- that is the question:  
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer  
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune  
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,  
And by opposing end them. To die- to sleep-  
No more; and by a sleep to say we end  
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks   
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation  
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die- to sleep.  
To sleep- perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub!  
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come  
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,   
Must give us pause. There's the respect  
That makes calamity of so long life.  
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,  
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,  
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,   
The insolence of office, and the spurns  
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,  
When he himself might his quietus make  
With a bare bodkin? Who would these fardels bear,  
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,   
But that the dread of something after death-  
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn  
No traveller returns- puzzles the will,  
And makes us rather bear those ills we have  
Than fly to others that we know not of?   
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,  
And thus the native hue of resolution  
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,  
And enterprises of great pith and moment  
With this regard their currents turn awry  
And lose the name of action.- Soft you now!  
The fair Ophelia!- Nymph, in thy orisons  
Be all my sins rememb'red.

gertrude. [from behind] Good my lord,  
How does your honour for this many a day? 

Hamlet. Ha, ha! Are you honest?

gertrude. My lord?

Hamlet. Are you fair? 

gertrude. What means your lordship?

Hamlet. That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no  
discourse to your beauty.

gertrude. Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?

Hamlet. Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner transform  
honesty from what it is to a bawd than the force of honesty can  
translate beauty into his likeness. This was sometime a paradox,  
but now the time gives it proof.  
Get thee to a nunnery! Why wouldst thou be a breeder of  
sinners? I am myself indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse   
me of such things that it were better my mother had not borne me.  
I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious; with more offences at my  
beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give  
them shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I  
do, crawling between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves all;   
believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where's your  
husband?

gertrude. At home, my lord.

Hamlet. Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool  
nowhere but in's own house. [opens door to reveal C&P]

gertrude. O, help him, you sweet heavens!

Hamlet. [spoken to G] If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry:  
be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape  
calumny. Get thee to a nunnery. Go, farewell. Or if thou wilt  
needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what   
monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go; and quickly too.  
Farewell.

gertrude. O heavenly powers, restore him!

Hamlet. [spoken to C&P] I have heard of your paintings too, well enough. God hath  
given you one face, and you make yourselves another. You jig, you   
amble, and you lisp; you nickname God's creatures and make your  
wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't! it hath made  
me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages. Those that are  
married already- all but one- shall live; the rest shall keep as  
they are. To a nunnery, go. 

[Exit]. 

gertrude. O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!  
The courtier's, scholar's, soldier's, eye, tongue, sword,  
Th' expectancy and rose of the fair state,  
The glass of fashion and the mould of form,  
Th' observ'd of all observers- quite, quite down!   
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,  
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,  
Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh;  
That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth  
Blasted with ecstasy. O, woe is me  
T' have seen what I have seen, see what I see!

Claudius. There's something in his soul  
O'er which his melancholy sits on brood;  
And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose  
Will be some danger; What think you on't?

Polonius. My lord, do as you please;  
But if you hold it fit, after the play  
Let his queen mother all alone entreat him  
To show his grief. Let her be round with him;   
And I'll be plac'd so please you, in the ear  
Of all their conference. If she find him not,  
confine him where your wisdom best shall think.

Claudius. It shall be so.   
Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. [Exeunt.]

Act III, Scene 2

[Enter Hamlet speaking as if to someone behind a screen]

Hamlet. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you,  
trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of our  
players do, I had as live the town crier spoke my lines. Nor do   
not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all  
gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say)  
whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a  
temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the  
soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to  
tatters, to very rags, to split the cars of the groundlings, who  
(for the most part) are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb  
shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipp'd for o'erdoing  
Termagant. It out-herods Herod. Pray you avoid it.

[Enter Polonius]

Hamlet. How now, my lord? Will the King hear this piece of work?

Polonius. And the Queen too, and that presently.

Hamlet. Bid the players make haste,  
[Exit Polonius.] 

Hamlet. What, ho, Horatio! [addresses the audience]  
Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man  
As e'er my conversation cop'd withal.  
Nay, do not think I flatter; Dost thou hear?  
Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice  
And could of men distinguish, her election  
Hath seal'd thee for herself. For thou hast been  
As one, in suff'ring all, that suffers nothing;   
A man that Fortune's buffets and rewards  
Hast ta'en with equal thanks; and blest are those  
Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled  
That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger  
To sound what stop she please. Give me that man   
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him  
In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,  
As I do thee. Something too much of this I  
There is a play to-night before the King.  
One scene of it comes near the circumstance,   
Which I have told thee, of my father's death.  
I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot,  
Even with the very comment of thy soul  
Observe my uncle. If his occulted guilt  
Do not itself unkennel in one speech,   
It is a damned ghost that we have seen,  
And my imaginations are as foul  
As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note;  
For I mine eyes will rivet to his face,  
And after we will both our judgments join   
In censure of his seeming.  
They are coming to the play. I must be idle.  
Get you a place.

Claudius. How fares our cousin Hamlet? 

Hamlet. Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish. I eat the air,  
promise-cramm'd. You cannot feed capons so.

Claudius. I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet. These words are not  
mine.

Hamlet. No, nor mine now. [To Polonius] My lord, you play'd once   
i' th' university, you say?

Polonius. That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor.

Hamlet. What did you enact?

Polonius. I did enact Julius Caesar; I was kill'd i' th' Capitol; Brutus  
kill'd me. 

Hamlet. It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there. 

Polonius. You are merry, my lord.

Hamlet. Who, I?

Polonius. Ay, my lord.

Hamlet. O God, your only jig-maker! What should a man do but be merry?  
For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died  
within 's two hours.

Polonius. Nay 'tis twice two months, my lord.

Hamlet. So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for I'll have a  
suit of sables. O heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten   
yet? Then there's hope a great man's memory may outlive his life  
half a year.

[screen is where the film is projected onto. all watch. it’s a silent movie of the charlie chaplin ilk. black and white, slapstick routines.]

gertrude. What means this, my lord?

Hamlet. Marry, this is miching malhecho; it means mischief. 

[they watch]

Hamlet. [aside] Wormwood, wormwood!

[they watch in tense silence]

Hamlet. If she should break it now!

[end of first the first reel. polonius changes to second.]

Hamlet. Madam, how like you this play?

Gertrude. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. 

Hamlet. O, but she'll keep her word.

Claudius. Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in't?

Hamlet. No, no! They do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i' th'  
world.

Claudius. What do you call the play? 

Hamlet. 'The Mousetrap.' Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the  
image of a murther done in Vienna. Gonzago is the duke's name;  
his wife, Baptista. You shall see anon. 'Tis a knavish piece of  
work; but what o' that? Your Majesty, and we that have free  
souls, it touches us not. Let the gall'd jade winch; our withers  
are unwrung. This is one Lucianus, nephew to the King.

gertrude. You are as good as a chorus, my lord.

Hamlet. [to polonius as he finishes chaning reel] Begin, murtherer. Pox, leave  
thy damnable faces, and begin! Come, the croaking raven doth   
bellow for revenge.

Hamlet. He poisons him i' th' garden for's estate. His name's Gonzago.  
The story is extant, and written in very choice Italian. You   
shall see anon how the murtherer gets the love of Gonzago's wife.

[The King rises. ]

Hamlet. What, frighted with false fire?

Gertrude. How fares my lord?

Claudius. Give me some light! Away!

Hamlet. Why, let the strucken deer go weep,  
The hart ungalled play;   
For some must watch, while some must sleep:  
Thus runs the world away.  
O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand  
pound! Didst perceive?  
Upon the talk of the poisoning?  
Aha! Come, some music! Come, the recorders!  
For if the King like not the comedy,  
Why then, belike he likes it not, perdy.   
Come, some music!

[enter polonius]

Polonius.Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.

Hamlet. Sir, a whole history.

Polonius.The King, sir- 

Hamlet. Ay, sir, what of him?

Polonius. Is in his retirement, marvellous distemper'd.

Hamlet. With drink, sir?

Polonius. No, my lord; rather with choler.

Hamlet. Your wisdom should show itself more richer to signify this to   
the doctor; for me to put him to his purgation would perhaps  
plunge him into far more choler.

Polonius. Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and start  
not so wildly from my affair.

Hamlet. I am tame, sir; pronounce. 

Polonius. The Queen, your mother, in most great affliction of spirit  
hath sent me to you.

Hamlet. You are welcome.

Polonius. Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right breed.  
If it shall please you to make me a wholesome answer, I will do   
your mother's commandment; if not, your pardon and my return  
shall be the end of my business.

Hamlet. Sir, I cannot.

Polonius. What, my lord?

Hamlet. Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseas'd. But, sir, such   
answer as I can make, you shall command; or rather, as you say,  
my mother. Therefore no more, but to the matter! My mother, you  
say-

Polonius. Then thus she says: your behaviour hath struck her into  
amazement and admiration. 

Hamlet. O wonderful son, that can so stonish a mother! But is there no  
sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration? Impart.

Polonius. She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to bed.

Hamlet. We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any  
further trade with us?

Polonius. My lord, you once did love me.

Hamlet. And do still, by these pickers and stealers!

Polonius. Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? You do surely  
bar the door upon your own liberty, if you deny your griefs to  
your friend.

Hamlet. Sir, I lack advancement.

Polonius. How can that be, when you have the voice of the King himself  
for your succession in Denmark?

Hamlet. Ay, sir, but 'while the grass grows'- the proverb is something  
musty.   
O, the recorders! Let me see one. To withdraw with you- why do  
you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me  
into a toil?

Polonius. O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly. 

Hamlet. I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe?

Polonius. My lord, I cannot.

Hamlet. I pray you.

Polonius. Believe me, I cannot.

Hamlet. I do beseech you. 

Polonius. I know, no touch of it, my lord.

Hamlet. It is as easy as lying. Govern these ventages with your  
fingers and thumbs, give it breath with your mouth, and it will  
discourse most eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops.

Polonius. But these cannot I command to any utt'rance of harmony. I   
have not the skill.

Hamlet. Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You  
would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would  
pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my  
lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music,   
excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it  
speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be play'd on than a  
pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me,  
you cannot play upon me.

Polonius. My lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently.

Hamlet. Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?

Polonius. By th' mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed.

Hamlet. Methinks it is like a weasel. 

Polonius. It is back'd like a weasel.

Hamlet. Or like a whale.

Polonius. Very like a whale.

Hamlet. Then will I come to my mother by-and-by.- They fool me to the  
top of my bent.- I will come by-and-by. 

Polonius. I will say so. 

[Exit.]

Hamlet. 'By-and-by' is easily said.  
'Tis now the very witching time of night,  
When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out   
Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood  
And do such bitter business as the day  
Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother!  
O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever  
The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom.   
Let me be cruel, not unnatural;  
I will speak daggers to her, but use none.  
My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites-  
How in my words somever she be shent,  
To give them seals never, my soul, consent!

[Exit] 

Act III, Scene 3

Claudius. I like him not, nor stands it safe with us  
To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you;  
The terms of our estate may not endure  
Hazard so near us as doth hourly grow  
Out of his lunacies.

gertrude. Most holy and religious fear it is   
To keep those many many bodies safe  
That live and feed upon your Majesty.  
The single and peculiar life is bound  
With all the strength and armour of the mind  
To keep itself from noyance; but much more   
That spirit upon whose weal depends and rests  
The lives of many. 

claudius. Never alone  
Did the king sigh, but with a general groan.   
For we will fetters put upon this fear,  
Which now goes too free-footed.

Polonius. My lord, he's going to his mother's closet.  
Behind the arras I'll convey myself  
To hear the process. I'll warrant she'll tax him home;  
And, as you said, and wisely was it said,   
'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,  
Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear  
The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege.  
I'll call upon you ere you go to bed  
And tell you what I know. 

Claudius. Thanks, dear my lord.

[Exit Polonius and Gertrude]

claudius. O, what form of prayer  
Can serve my turn?  
O wretched state! Help, angels! Make assay.  
Bow, stubborn knees; and heart with strings of steel,  
Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe!  
All may be well. [He kneels.]

[Enter Hamlet.]

Hamlet. Now might I do it pat, now he is praying;  
And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven,  
And so am I reveng'd. That would be scann'd.  
A villain kills my father; and for that,  
I, his sole son, do this same villain send   
To heaven.  
Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge!  
He took my father grossly, full of bread,  
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;  
And how his audit stands, who knows save heaven?   
But in our circumstance and course of thought,  
'Tis heavy with him; and am I then reveng'd,  
To take him in the purging of his soul,  
When he is fit and seasoned for his passage?  
No.  
Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid hent.  
When he is drunk asleep; or in his rage;  
Or in th' incestuous pleasure of his bed;  
At gaming, swearing, or about some act  
That has no relish of salvation in't-   
Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,  
And that his soul may be as damn'd and black  
As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays.  
This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. [Exit.]

Claudius. [rises] My words fly up, my thoughts remain below.   
Words without thoughts never to heaven go. [Exit.]

Act III, Scene 4

[Enter Queen and Polonius.]

Polonius. He will come straight. Look you lay home to him.  
Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,  
And that your Grace hath screen'd and stood between   
Much heat and him. I'll silence me even here.  
Pray you be round with him.

Hamlet. [within] Mother, mother, mother!

Gertrude. I'll warrant you; fear me not. Withdraw; I hear him coming.

[Polonius hides behind the arras.]

[Enter Hamlet.]

Hamlet. Now, mother, what's the matter?

Gertrude. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.

Hamlet. Mother, you have my father much offended.

Gertrude. Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.

Hamlet. Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.

Gertrude. Why, how now, Hamlet?

Hamlet. What's the matter now?

Gertrude. Have you forgot me?

Hamlet. No, by the rood, not so!   
You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife,  
And (would it were not so!) you are my mother.

Gertrude. Nay, then I'll set those to you that can speak.

Hamlet. Come, come, and sit you down. You shall not budge;  
You go not till I set you up a glass   
Where you may see the inmost part of you.

Gertrude. What wilt thou do? Thou wilt not murther me?  
Help, help, ho!

Polonius. [behind] What, ho! help, help, help!

Hamlet. [draws] How now? a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead! 

[Makes a pass through the arras and kills Polonius.]

Polonius. [behind] O, I am slain!

Gertrude. O me, what hast thou done?

Hamlet. Nay, I know not. Is it the King?

Gertrude. O, what a rash and bloody deed is this! 

Hamlet. A bloody deed- almost as bad, good mother,  
As kill a king, and marry with his brother.

Gertrude. As kill a king?

Hamlet. Ay, lady, it was my word.

[Lifts up the arras and sees Polonius.] 

Hamlet. Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!  
I took thee for thy better. Take thy fortune.  
Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.  
Leave wringing of your hands. Peace! sit you down  
And let me wring your heart; for so I shall   
If it be made of penetrable stuff;

Gertrude. What have I done that thou dar'st wag thy tongue  
In noise so rude against me? 

Hamlet. Such an act  
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty;  
Calls virtue hypocrite; takes off the rose  
From the fair forehead of an innocent love,  
And sets a blister there; makes marriage vows   
As false as dicers' oaths. 

Gertrude. Ah me, what act,  
That roars so loud and thunders in the index?

Hamlet. Look here upon th's picture, and on this,   
The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.  
See what a grace was seated on this brow;  
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;  
A combination and a form indeed  
Where every god did seem to set his seal  
To give the world assurance of a man.  
This was your husband. Look you now what follows.   
Here is your husband, like a mildew'd ear  
Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?  
Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,  
And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes  
You cannot call it love; for at your age   
The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble,  
And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment  
Would step from this to this?   
O shame! where is thy blush? 

Gertrude. O Hamlet, speak no more!  
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul.

Hamlet. Nay, but to live  
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,  
Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love  
Over the nasty sty!

Gertrude. O, speak to me no more!  
These words like daggers enter in mine ears.   
No more, sweet Hamlet!

Hamlet. A murtherer and a villain!  
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe  
Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings;  
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,   
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole  
And put it in his pocket!

Gertrude. No more!

Hamlet. A king of shreds and patches!-   
Save me and hover o'er me with your wings,  
You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?

Gertrude. Alas, he's mad!

Hamlet. Do you not come your tardy son to chide,  
That, laps'd in time and passion, lets go by   
Th' important acting of your dread command?  
O, say!

[listening to ghost]

Hamlet. How is it with you, lady?

Gertrude. Alas, how is't with you,   
That you do bend your eye on vacancy,  
And with th' encorporal air do hold discourse?  
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;  
And, as the sleeping soldiers in th' alarm,  
Your bedded hairs, like life in excrements,  
Start up and stand an end. O gentle son,  
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper  
Sprinkle cool patience! Whereon do you look?

Hamlet. On him, on him! Look you how pale he glares!  
His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,   
Would make them capable.- Do not look upon me,  
Lest with this piteous action you convert  
My stern effects. Then what I have to do  
Will want true colour- tears perchance for blood.

Gertrude. To whom do you speak this? 

Hamlet. Do you see nothing there?

Gertrude. Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.

Hamlet. Nor did you nothing hear?

Gertrude. No, nothing but ourselves.

Hamlet. Why, look you there! Look how it steals away!   
My father, in his habit as he liv'd!  
Look where he goes even now out at the portal!

Gertrude. This is the very coinage of your brain.  
This bodiless creation ecstasy   
Is very cunning in.

Hamlet. Ecstasy?  
My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time  
And makes as healthful music. It is not madness  
That I have utt'red. Bring me to the test,   
And I the matter will reword; which madness  
Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,  
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul  
That not your trespass but my madness speaks.  
Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;  
And do not spread the compost on the weeds  
To make them ranker.

Gertrude. O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.

Hamlet. O, throw away the worser part of it,   
And live the purer with the other half,  
Good night- but go not to my uncle's bed.  
Assume a virtue, if you have it not.  
Refrain to-night,  
And that shall lend a kind of easiness  
To the next abstinence; the next more easy;   
Once more, good night;  
And when you are desirous to be blest,  
I'll blessing beg of you.- So again, good night.   
I must be cruel, only to be kind;  
Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.  
One word more, good lady.

Gertrude. What shall I do? [rhetorical, or at least not to hamlet]

Hamlet. Not this, by no means, that I bid you do:  
Let the bloat King tempt you again to bed;  
Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse;  
And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses,  
Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,  
Make you to ravel all this matter out,   
That I essentially am not in madness,  
But mad in craft.

Gertrude. If words be made of breath,  
And breath of life, I have no life to breathe  
What thou hast said to me.

Hamlet. This man shall set me packing.

Gertrude. Alack, I had forgot!

Hamlet. I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room.-  
For this same lord,   
I do repent; but heaven hath pleas'd it so,  
To punish me with this, and this with me,  
That I must be their scourge and minister.  
I will bestow him, and will answer well  
The death I gave him.   
Mother, good night.- Indeed, this counsellor  
Is now most still, most secret, and most grave,  
Who was in life a foolish prating knave.  
Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.  
Good night, mother.

[Exit the Queen. Exit Hamlet, tugging in  
Polonius.]

Act IV, Scene 1

[Enter King and Queen, ]

Claudius. There's matter in these sighs. These profound heaves  
You must translate; 'tis fit we understand them.  
Where is your son?

Gertrude. Ah, mine own lord, what have I seen to-night!

Claudius. What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?

Gertrude. Mad as the sea and wind when both contend  
Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit  
Behind the arras hearing something stir,   
Whips out his rapier, cries 'A rat, a rat!'  
And in this brainish apprehension kills  
The unseen good old man.

Claudius. O heavy deed!  
It had been so with us, had we been there.   
His liberty is full of threats to all-  
To you yourself, to us, to every one.  
Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd?  
It will be laid to us, whose providence  
Should have kept short, restrain'd, and out of haunt   
This mad young man. But so much was our love  
We would not understand what was most fit,  
But, like the owner of a foul disease,  
To keep it from divulging, let it feed  
Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone? 

Gertrude. To draw apart the body he hath kill'd;  
O'er whom his very madness, like some ore  
Among a mineral of metals base,  
Shows itself pure. He weeps for what is done.

Claudius. O Gertrude, come away! and this vile deed  
We must with all our majesty and skill  
Both countenance and excuse.   
Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends  
And let them know both what we mean to do  
And what's untimely done. O, come away!  
My soul is full of discord and dismay.

[Exeunt.]

Act IV, Scene 3

[Enter King.]

Claudius. I have sent to seek him and to find the body.  
How dangerous is it that this man goes loose!  
Yet must not we put the strong law on him.   
Diseases desperate grown  
By desperate appliance are reliev'd,  
Or not at all.

[enter hamlet]

Claudius. Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?

Hamlet. At supper.

Claudius. At supper? Where? 

Hamlet. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten. A certain  
convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your  
only emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and  
we fat ourselves for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar  
is but variable service- two dishes, but to one table. That's the   
end.

Claudius. Alas, alas!

Hamlet. A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat  
of the fish that hath fed of that worm.

Claudius. What dost thou mean by this? 

Hamlet. Nothing but to show you how a king may go a progress through  
the guts of a beggar.

Claudius. Where is Polonius?

Hamlet. In heaven. Send thither to see. If your messenger find him not  
there, seek him i' th' other place yourself. But indeed, if you  
find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up  
the stair, into the lobby.

Claudius. Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,-  
Which we do tender as we dearly grieve  
For that which thou hast done,- must send thee hence  
With fiery quickness. 

Hamlet. Farewell, dear mother.

Claudius. Thy loving father, Hamlet.

Hamlet. My mother! Father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is   
one flesh; and so, my mother.

[Exit.]

Act IV, Scene 4

Hamlet. How all occasions do inform against me  
And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,  
If his chief good and market of his time  
Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.  
Sure he that made us with such large discourse,   
Looking before and after, gave us not  
That capability and godlike reason  
To fust in us unus'd. Now, whether it be  
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple  
Of thinking too precisely on th' event,-   
A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom  
And ever three parts coward,- I do not know  
Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do,'  
Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means  
To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me.   
Rightly to be great  
Is not to stir without great argument,  
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw  
When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,   
That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,  
Excitements of my reason and my blood,  
And let all sleep,   
O, from this time forth,  
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! 

[orderlies come and strip him and put him in hospital gown and take him away Exit.]

Act IV, Scene 5

claudius. I will not speak with him.

gertrude. he is importunate, indeed distract.  
His mood will needs be pitied.

claudius. What would he have? 

gertrude. he speaks much of his father; says he hears  
There's tricks i' th' world, and hems, and beats his heart;  
Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt,  
That carry but half sense.

claudius. Let him come in.  
[Aside] To my sick soul (as sin's true nature is)   
Each toy seems Prologue to some great amiss.  
So full of artless jealousy is guilt  
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

[Enter hamlet drugged]

hamlet. Where is the beauteous Majesty of Denmark?

Gertrude. How now, dear hamlet?

hamlet. Nay, pray You mark.  
(Sings) He is dead and gone, lady,  
He is dead and gone;   
At his head a grass-green turf,  
At his heels a stone.  
O, ho!

Claudius. Conceit upon his father? [gertrude nods]

hamlet. Pray let's have no words of this; but when they ask, you what  
it means, say you this:  
[Sings] By Gis and by Saint Charity,   
Alack, and fie for shame!  
Young men will do't if they come to't  
By Cock, they are to blame.  
Quoth she, 'Before you tumbled me,  
You promis'd me to wed.'   
He answers:  
'So would I 'a' done, by yonder sun,  
An thou hadst not come to my bed.'

Claudius. How long hath he been thus?

hamlet. I hope all will be well. We must be patient; but I cannot   
choose but weep to think they would lay him i' th' cold ground.  
Come, my coach! Good night, ladies. Good night, sweet  
ladies. Good night, good night.   
[Exit]

Claudius. O, this is the poison of deep grief; it springs  
All from his father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude,  
When sorrows come, they come not single spies.  
But in battalions! First, his father slain;   
Next, polonius, and he most violent author  
Of his own just remove; the people muddied,  
Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers  
For good Polonius' death, and we have done but greenly  
In hugger-mugger to inter him; poor hamlet  
Divided from himself and his fair judgment,  
Without the which we are pictures or mere beasts;  
O my dear Gertrude, this,   
Like to a murd'ring piece, in many places  
Give me superfluous death. 

[enter hamlet]

hamlet. [sings]  
They bore him barefac'd on the bier  
(Hey non nony, nony, hey nony)  
And in his grave rain'd many a tear.   
Fare you well, my dove!

hamlet. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love,  
remember. And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

gertrude. A document in madness! Thoughts and remembrance fitted.

hamlet. There's fennel for you, and columbines. There's rue for you,  
and here's some for me. We may call it herb of grace o' Sundays.  
O, you must wear your rue with a difference! There's a daisy. I  
would give you some violets, but they wither'd all when my father  
died. They say he made a good end.  
[Sings] For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.  
And will he not come again?  
And will he not come again?  
No, no, he is dead;  
Go to thy deathbed;  
He never will come again.  
His beard was as white as snow,  
All flaxen was his poll.  
He is gone, he is gone,  
And we cast away moan.  
God 'a'mercy on his soul!  
And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God b' wi' you.

[Exit.]

claudius. Do you see this, O God?

gertrude. claudius, I must commune with your grief,  
Or you deny me right.

Claudius. I pray you go with me.

[Exeunt]

Act V, Scene 1

[hamlet alone eating lunch still in hospital garb, apple, orange, roll, he starts having them talk to each other]

orange. What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the  
shipwright, or the carpenter?

apple. The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand  
tenants.

orange. I like thy wit well, in good faith. The gallows does well.   
But how does it well? It does well to those that do ill. Now,  
thou dost ill to say the gallows is built stronger than the  
church. Argal, the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come!

apple. Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a  
carpenter? 

orange. Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.

apple. Marry, now I can tell!

orange. To't.

apple. Mass, I cannot tell.

orange. Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will  
not mend his pace with beating; and when you are ask'd this  
question next, say 'a grave-maker.' The houses he makes lasts  
till doomsday. 

[eats a few bites of the apple, then throws it onto the floor. addresses audience referencing apple]

Hamlet. That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once. How the  
knave jowls it to the ground, as if 'twere Cain's jawbone, that  
did the first murther! This might be the pate of a Politician,   
which this ass now o'erreaches; one that would circumvent God,  
might it not?  
Or of a courtier, which could say 'Good morrow, sweet lord!  
How dost thou, good lord?' This might be my Lord Such-a-one, that   
prais'd my Lord Such-a-one's horse when he meant to beg it- might  
it not?  
Why, e'en so! and now my Lady Worm's, chapless, and knock'd  
about the mazzard with a sexton's spade. Here's fine revolution,   
and we had the trick to see't. Did these bones cost no more the  
breeding but to play at loggets with 'em? Mine ache to think  
on't.

Hamlet.[referencing orange] There's another. Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer?   
Where be his quiddits now, his quillets, his cases, his tenures,  
and his tricks? Why does he suffer this rude knave now to knock  
him about the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him  
of his action of battery? Hum! 

Hamlet. [addressing orange] How long hast thou been a grave-maker?

orange. Of all the days i' th' year, I came to't that day that our  
last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.

Hamlet. How long is that since? 

orange. Cannot you tell that? Every fool can tell that. It was the  
very day that young Hamlet was born- he that is mad. 

Hamlet. How came he mad? 

orange. Very strangely, they say.

Hamlet. How strangely?

orange. Faith, e'en with losing his wits.

Hamlet. Upon what ground?

orange. Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man and boy   
thirty years. 

orange. [referencing roll] Here's a skull now. This skull hath lien   
you i' th' earth three-and-twenty years. 

Hamlet. Whose was it?

orange. A whoreson, mad fellow's it was. Whose do you think it was?

Hamlet. Nay, I know not.

orange. A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! 'A pour'd a flagon of   
Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir, was Yorick's  
skull, the King's jester.

Hamlet. This?

orange. E'en that.

Hamlet. Let me see. [Takes the skull.] Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him,   
Horatio. A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He  
hath borne me on his back a thousand times. And now how abhorred  
in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those  
lips that I have kiss'd I know not how oft. Where be your gibes  
now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment that   
were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your  
own grinning? Quite chap- fall'n? Now get you to my lady's  
chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this  
favour she must come. Make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio,  
tell me one thing. 

Hamlet. Dost thou think Alexander look'd o' this fashion i' th' earth?

Hamlet. And smelt so? Pah!

[stuffs entire roll into mouth]

Hamlet. To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not  
imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander till he find it  
stopping a bunghole?  
as thus: Alexander died,  
Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is  
earth; of earth we make loam; and why of that loam (whereto he  
was converted) might they not stop a beer barrel?   
Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,  
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.  
But soft! but soft! aside! Here comes the King- 

[Enter King, Queen [both upset by hamlet’s behaviour, claudius specifically. possibly watched this whole scene.]

Claudius. O, treble woe  
Fall ten times treble on that cursed head  
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense   
Depriv'd thee of! 

Hamlet. [comes forward] What is he whose grief  
Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow  
Conjures the wand'ring stars, and makes them stand   
Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,  
Hamlet the Dane.

[Leaps at claudius]

Gertrude. Hamlet, Hamlet!

Hamlet. Why, I will fight with him upon this theme   
Until my eyelids will no longer wag.

Gertrude. O my son, what theme?

Hamlet. I lov'd my father. Forty thousand brothers  
Could not (with all their quantity of love)  
Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for him? 

Claudius. O, he is mad, gertrude.

Gertrude. For love of God, forbear him!

Hamlet. 'Swounds, show me what thou't do.  
Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?  
Woo't drink up esill? eat a crocodile?   
I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?  
To outface me with leaping in his grave?  
Be buried quick with him, and so will I.  
And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw  
Millions of acres on us, till our ground,   
Singeing his pate against the burning zone,  
Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,  
I'll rant as well as thou.

Gertrude. This is mere madness;  
And thus a while the fit will work on him.   
Anon, as patient as the female dove  
When that her golden couplets are disclos'd,  
His silence will sit drooping.

Hamlet. Hear you, sir!  
What is the reason that you use me thus?   
Let Hercules himself do what he may,  
The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.

Claudius. Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.

[exit claudius]

Act V, Scene 2

[hamlet raging to himself, gertrude not far off, watching but out of earshot]

Hamlet. Why, what a king is this!  
Does it not, thinks't thee, stand me now upon-  
He that hath kill'd my king, and whor'd my mother;  
Popp'd in between th' election and my hopes;  
Thrown out his angle for my proper life,   
And with such coz'nage- is't not perfect conscience  
To quit him with this arm? And is't not to be damn'd  
To let this canker of our nature come  
In further evil?  
And a man's life is no more than to say 'one.'  
Sir, I will walk here in the hall. If it please his Majesty,  
it is the breathing time of day with me. Let the foils be  
brought, the gentleman willing - the King hold his purpose-  
I will win if I can; if not, I will gain nothing but my  
shame and the odd hits.  
I am constant to my purposes; they follow the King's pleasure.   
If his fitness speaks, mine is ready; now or whensoever, provided  
I be so able as now.

Hamlet. [addressing audience] But thou wouldst not  
think how ill all's here about my heart. But it is no matter.  
Not a whit, we defy augury; there's a special providence in  
the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be  
not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come:   
the readiness is all. Since no man knows aught of what he leaves,  
what is't to leave betimes? Let be.

[enter claudius]

Claudius. Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.  
Give me your pardon, sir.   
If Hamlet from himself be taken away,  
And when he's not himself does wrong claudius  
Then Hamlet does it not.  
Who does it, then? His madness. If't be so,  
Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;   
His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.

Hamlet. You mock me, sir.

claudius. No, by this hand.

Hamlet. Come on, sir.

[hamlet attacks claudius with a knife.]

Hamlet. One.

gertrude. No.

hamlet. A hit, a very palpable hit.

Hamlet. Come. [They fight.] Another hit. What say you? 

claudius. A touch, a touch; I do confess't. [possibly bleeding]

Gertrude. Come, let me wipe thy face. [to claudius]

Hamlet. Come for the third, my lord! You but dally.   
Pray you pass with your best violence;  
I am afeard you make a wanton of me.

claudius. Say you so? Come on. Play.

hamlet. Have at you now! 

[in their grappling they knock over/hurt gertrude]

claudius. Look to the Queen there, ho!

[in the confusion, hamlet is stabbed with his own knife.]

Gertrude. O my dear Hamlet! 

Hamlet. I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!  
You that look pale and tremble at this chance,  
That are but mutes or audience to this act,  
Had I but time (as this fell sergeant, Death,  
Is strict in his arrest) O, I could tell you-   
But let it be. Horatio, I am dead;  
Thou liv'st; report me and my cause aright  
To the unsatisfied.  
O good Horatio, what a wounded name  
(Things standing thus unknown) shall live behind me!   
If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,  
Absent thee from felicity awhile,  
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,  
To tell my story.   
O, I die, Horatio! [spoken to claudius]  
the rest is silence. 

[Dies.] 

claudius. Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince,  
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

[the end]


End file.
